


Merry Little Christmas, A

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Episode: s05e09 Abu el Banat, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-11
Updated: 2008-09-11
Packaged: 2019-05-15 04:24:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14783550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: What DID Josh get Donna for Christmas the year he told her he got her socks?





	Merry Little Christmas, A

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

  
Author's notes: This ficlet is in a series of challenges of missed moments presented to me. The challenge was that Josh and Donna's "moment" could have come after any given conversation. There's dialog in the middle directly from the show that the challenge was to springboard off of.  


* * *

I roll over in bed and my naked body comes in contact with another naked body. 

Josh.

I smile and roll the other way. His right arm slides along my stomach and links his fingers with mine and his left arm snakes under my head. He drops a long soft kiss on my bare shoulder. "Hi." he whispers in my ear. 

I roll back to him and stay within his embrace. "Hi." I smile.

I bet you're wondering how we ended up this way, huh? It started with an odd, but not abnormal conversation between us in his office one night a few weeks ago.

*********************************

"You going to come watch? There's people singing in the lobby."

"Spontaneously?"

"The choir from the tree-lighting."

"Who's that for?" He's tapping a post-it note in the catalog of gifts I gave him earlier and I ignore him. Doesn't work. "You picked your own gift?"

"I'm in charge of shopping."

"I got your gift." He grins widely. I've missed that grin; I'm glad it's back.

"No, you didn't. Three weeks in advance?" He's so full of it. He's never been that organized. That's why he has me, for crying out loud.

"I saw it on Thanksgiving. I got it." Thanksgiving? He was in Florida for Thanksgiving.

"No you didn't--what is it?" I can't help it. I'm falling for his game, I know.

"I'm not telling you." Jerk.

"I want to know." What do you want from me? Ever since he got me that book our first year in office, I've really looked forward to his Christmas presents.

"Really?" He asks, and I smile at him in anticipation. "It's a gift certificate. " Ugh! Are you kidding me? He copped out! "Tower Records." I stop smiling all together. "Because you're a fan of the music. You get to go on a spree." Yeah, I am, you jerk!

"That'll be fun ..." I try to sound enthusiastic and fall a few miles short.

"Sometime tomorrow, I need to sit with Approps and find some foreign aid money we can reprogram."

"What should I tell them it's for?"

"Bribing a dictator to get illegal missionaries out of Sudan."

"Something I can put on the memo."

"Reassigning funds from extant authorizations based on new priorities in East Africa." Can this guy spin or what? He can't choose Christmas presents for me worth shit, but at least he can still spin!

"Do you mind if I go watch the carolers?" Because there's nothing left to see here. I turn to leave, but his voice stops me.

"Donna." Comes his soft voice. "It's not a gift certificate."

I smile widely again and turn around. "What is it?"

"I'm not telling you."

"I want to know." I beg.

"Socks." Now he's just toying with me.

"Stop."

"I'm not telling you. Live with the pain."

But I can't! Curiosity killed the cat! I can't go three weeks like this. But I also can't show him how giddy I am with anticipation, so I turn to leave his office, but his bellow stops me.

"DONNA!"

"You rang?" I sigh.

"You marked a blender." he says in confusion. "THAT'S what you wanted me to get you?"

Here we go.

"Yeah."

"A blender."

"Yes, to blend things with." 

Now, please drop it, Josh.

"You don't think CJ will kill me if I get you a blender?"

"Why the hell would CJ care?"

"What is this? 1950, I get the little woman a blender?"

"Little woman?" Does he not see what he said there?

"I'm for the advancement of women."

I'd like to show him the leaps and bounds this woman can make. Damn! Best not to go there. Then I'm going to start thinking about what he can really give me for Christmas, which is only going to end in me drinking my face off...

"It's just a blender, Josh." I sigh.

"But that's so impersonal." He whines a bit. This is interesting. I wonder if I should tell him what the blender is for?

"I've done better than a blender." He goes. "In fact, I've done MILES better than a blender. I will not revert back to the sexual politics of the 50's. I know sometimes it's tough to discern who's actually in charge here, but I am the man and I'm not going to get you a blender, if I can't get you to bring me coffee, I'm certainly not going to get you to... oh hey, are you going to make iced coffee with it?"

"No. I was going to make protein shakes for us and bring them in for us to drink during the day." I confess. This is actually true. I was doing some reading on this.

"Tofu in a glass?" He looks green.

"No."

"But they're going to taste like it. Are they going to even have a taste?"

"I don't know; I haven't made them yet."

"Are you being serious with this or is this in retaliation for the Tower Records thing?"

"You eat like shit, Josh." I say bluntly.

"I do not." he pouts. His pout doesn't work as well on me as mine does on him. 

"Joshua, you eat too much red meat and salt. You're going to clog up your arteries and have a heart attack and I thought if I got one measley healthy thing into you a day, I might not feel like such a devastated failure when that happens." 

Oh. That was way more passionate than it was supposed to be. His eyes are wide now and he hasn't blinked in a few seconds. 

"Anyway," I say more softly. "I'm going to go watch the carolers."

"Wait, Donna." he says when I'm almost to the door. When I turn around, he's pulling something from his desk, a small envelope, which he puts down on his desk and slides over towards me. I walk slowly back to him. 

"What's that?"

"It's your Christmas present." That better not be a gift certificate. But after a moment like we just had, he wouldn't dare. Or would he?

"You don't have to give it to me now." 

"It's the appropriate moment, I think." He says cryptically. "Besides, it hinges on whether or not you have plans on Christmas Eve." 

I haven't made plans on Christmas Eve in three years. 

I slide the envelope open and two tickets fall into my hands.

Two tickets to Yo Yo Ma at the Kennedy Center on Christmas Eve.

"One of them is for me, actually." he clears his throat. "I know how much you love music, Donna, and how much you used to love Yo Yo Ma, and I can't help but think I ruined him for you."

"Oh, Josh..." I start to deny.

"No, you used to listen to him at your desk at night, especially around Christmas and it wasn't until I saw the ad for the show that I realized you hadn't done that in three years."

"Well, I don't want to distract anyone..." I offer lamely.

"Donna..." he trails. 

"I don't want to upset you." I whisper. "It was the trigger..."

"The pilot was the trigger, Yo Yo Ma was just the final moving force. But I want to overcome it, Donna, and I want to do it with you by my side. I want you to be able to listen to Yo Yo Ma again without fear that it's going to send me into a nutty."

"What if it does?" I ask looking down at the tickets in my hands.

"No one will know. Those tickets are the Presidential box. We're the only ones in it."

"Really?" I ask finally looking up at him. 

"Do you have plans for Christmas Eve?"

"I do now."

**************************

So, that's how it all started. The three weeks that followed, I was a mix of excitement and dread. I felt like I was in a constant state of pins and needles. I loved getting dressed up with Josh. Who wouldn't? Have you seen him in a tux? 

I was exhilarated at the thought of going to see Yo Yo Ma on Josh's arm without an entourage, but I was terrified over what might happen. What if he freaks and I can't get him back? What if something happens and all this attention is drawn to us? Do you know who goes to the Kennedy Center on Christmas Eve? Washington's elite. That's who would see it. 

On the other hand, that's also who is going to see just me and Josh sitting in the Presidential box and he doesn't seem the slightest bit concerned with that. I think he's through worrying about what Washington thinks of him. He's the golden boy again, but suddenly, he could give a shit about it.

So, I'm a little surprised when I open my door and hear, 

"Wow! You look hot!" he gapes. I roll my eyes, but inside I'm squealing like a girl.

"Josh..." I groan, just for show, as I turn to get my wrap from the couch. 

He liberates it from the couch and drapes it over my shoulders and he's really close and he smells really good. 

"I'm serious. You look beautiful." He says against my ear.

"Thank you." I smile, turning my head back to him. We're really close right now. I could kiss him.

"We should go." he says pulling away.

Damn.

Unfortunately, we can't get from the front door of the Kennedy Center up to the box without Josh being stopped a couple hundred times. Josh holds my hand in the crowd and introduces me to various people. He never once introduces me as his assistant. Some people already know, including the decked out and oh so interested in this development Amy Gardner over in the corner on someone's arm, not sure who that guy is, but if Josh even noticed, he hasn't shown it. This has got to be making her nuts. 

We finally make our way to the stairs and slip away from the crowd. Josh holds my chair for me when I sit down. I love how charming he can be when he's doing something because he wants to. As we wait for the show to start, I scan the crowd. Why is it that of the few hundred people here, I find Amy and she's right across from us? I can feel her eyes boring into me. 

I lean over close to Josh, because I'm female and can be mean too, and tell him softly that I brought him ear plugs if he wants them. He smiles at me and politely refuses as the lights go down.

Here we go. 

He's Yo Yo Ma, and he is, of course, amazing. I'm instantly caught up in his music. But when the Bach Suite in G Major starts, I look over at Josh and see his hands are shaking and he looks very pale.

I grab his hand and squeeze a bit. He smiles lightly and keeps his eyes front. He's trying to put up a good front and it's then that I realize just what this is doing to him and what he's going through for me...with me. 

I lean over until I'm a breath away from his ear. We're in the President's private box, so there's not much chance of being overheard, but I don't want to take the chance anyway. 

"I've never forgotten how strong you are." I whisper. "I'll never be able to convey just how much it means to me that you want to overcome this by my side except to say that I love you for it." 

Yup. That got his attention. 

He leans in and gives me a long, light kiss right on the lips. When he pulls away, he does a visual tour of my face and smiles, not big enough to show me dimples, but enough to assure me he's still okay.

I know, you're thinking, "Awww!" right? It's making my heart go pitter patter, too.

I spend the rest of the performance holding his hand, gently stroking with my thumb. Occasionally, I lean my head on his shoulder with a boldness that's coming from I don't know where. But in this sea of political barracudas and predators, he doesn't seem to care who sees. On the other hand, it's tough to say what's going on in his mind right now. 

As the ovation starts, before the encore though, he stands up and gently tugs me out of the box with him. I think he's trying to avoid the post-show crowd. There are a handful of people doing the same thing, for different reasons I'm sure, and he hustles us out of the Kennedy Center and into our awaiting limo.

I know! A limo. Did he do this up or what? Not that I haven't ridden in a limo a few hundred times in the last few years, but never because a guy rented one for a date.

I think it's a date.

It feels like a date.

I told him I loved him; I hope it's a date. 

We're quiet for a little while in the back of the car before I finally feel like one of us needs to say something. 

"You did really good, Josh. I'm really proud of you." He smiles at me as we arrive at my apartment. "Come up for a bit." I say on impulse. 

"Kay." he smiles. The driver holds the door as we step out. Josh tips him, thanks him, wishes him a Merry Christmas and tells him that he won't be needing him the rest of the night. I guess theoretically speaking, I can drive him home. But that's talking in theory; in reality, I'm hoping he doesn't go home tonight.

I turn a few lights on when we get into my apartment and turn to take stock of Josh. He still looks a little pale, but he's not shaking anymore. 

I drape my wrap over the couch and walk over to him, keeping back a little bit to give him some space. I don't want to freak him out by coming on too strong. He looks a little nervous.

"I don't want you to think this is because..." he starts.

"I don't." 

"Because it's not." 

"I know."

"Are we talking about the same thing?"

"Yes." 

"How do you know?" 

"Because it's written all over your face." I reply. 

"It's because I love you, too." he says softly.

"I thought so." I smile broadly.

"Can I get anything past you?"

"Not usually." I grin. I step to him and right into his embrace. One arm slides around to my back and the other one comes up, pulls the clip out that's holding my hair up, and then settles itself on the back of my head. 

"Donna, I've met some pretty amazing people in my life, kings and queens, dignitaries, Nobel laureates, poet laureates, presidents, celebrities and for all the cool things they did, not one of them can hold a candle to you."

How can I not love this man?

For the second time in a night filled with magic, he touches his lips to mine. It feels better than anything Yo Yo Ma can produce. It's light and Christmas sweet. I think back to that night in his office when all I wanted for Christmas was him and so far, that's exactly what I'm getting. He kisses me lightly on the forehead, then either side of my mouth before returning to my lips. 

Without really having any cognitive thought to it, I've undone his bow tie, like I've wanted to do for years, and pushed his jacket off. Oh, the suspenders are hanging at his waist, too. For his part, he's partly unzippered my dress and his fingers are lightly playing along my spine sending hundreds of shivers through me. 

"Donna," he whispers. "I want to make love to you."

"I was hoping you would." I reply, kissing him again and my dress slides to the floor. I step out of it and my shoes and neatly kick them aside. He scoops me up and without breaking contact with my lips, carries me to the bedroom.

*****************************************

And so here we are. Naked in my bed, grinning like a bunch of loons.

"Merry Christmas, Donnatella." he whispers.

"Good morning." I smile back. 

Then he sets to work giving me more of this wonderful gift of him. One thing crosses my mind though,

I wonder what he's doing for New Years Eve?

THE END


End file.
